The Illusions Of A King
by FictionfulSpectrum
Summary: Early in the morning, a boy is awoken from his slumber. What will happen when others see what awoke with him. Thus follows a game of illusions and shadows in a world of magic and mystery. We wouldn't want to shatter the illusions so soon would we?
1. Prologue 1: Avant

**Prologue**

 **Part 1: The Avant**

 **Cupboard Under The Stairs, Number # , Privet Drive, Little Whinging, UK.**

A boy was sleeping in a small storage cupboard. Tonight, he was having a particularly bad nightmare, causing him to shift uncomfortably in the little space he had in his home under the stairs. Harry James Potter was having a relatively bad dream indeed. _.._

 _0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_

 _The man, brimming with confidence, is looking down on to multiple people, his gaze piercing the hatred fueled glares he is receiving from the other end. At his side are two people, one has a mask on his face, and the other's face is a mask._

" _Gin, tossen, it is time"_

" _Aizen! What you have done is an act of betrayal greater than any this society has faced! Remember this and this only! Your sins will not go unpunished!"_

 _His words echoing in the silence, and with a sudden motion, Aizen's hands appear to be pointing to a black hole like rift in space._

 _He peers down once more, to the people, still in a daze from his treacherous act. A terrifying smile forming on his face, he states with slight hints of insanity:_

 _"No one stands on the top of the world. Not you, not me, not even the gods. But the unbearable vacancy of the throne in the sky is over. From now on...I will be sitting on it."_

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Panting, the boy lay, frozen in time. Wha- _what?_

For Harry, nightmares were a common occurrence. He had been suffering these same nightmares each and every night for as long as he could remember. But, something about this one was unnervingly different.

One reason was the bone chilling voice behind the words he had heard in his head. It was different. It wasn't violent, like the voice of the man in all his previous nightmares. He had grown tired of hearing _that_ man's voice, and it no longer haunted him. But the underlying danger and caution in the words of this new person, were enough to make even the strongest of heart shudder in anticipation.

What had he meant? Who was he?

Harry James Potter, had grown accustomed to the concept that his dreams were special. How so you ask?

He had always been perceptive. He could tell what kind of mood others were in just by one glance at their face. He had once used this ability to charm his teachers out of the impending and misinformed detention he would have earned due to the interference of his older cousin, Dudley. His Uncle and Aunt however, just added this as another one of his ' _Freak_ ' abilities, and he had sworn himself to stay quiet about his ' _sins'_ as Vernon liked to call them.

Furthermore, in his previous dreams, he had always heard a women crying his name, begging.

" _Please not Harry! Anything! I'll do anything!" The women stood in front of a cot, which held a crying child._

" _Stand aside women!" A voice hissed, and then the green light._ This was where all his previous dreams had come to an end.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Harry was pondering about the sudden change when he heard a voice break his daydream.

"Boy, get here this moment!" blurted his beet red Uncle.

'Oh right, it is _his_ birthday, better get up then' Remembering what his disconnected relatives were enraged about _this_ early in the Morning. They had been going on and on about Dudley's so-on-so 'Special Day' for the past month, slowly gathering all his presents and hiding them under their bed, but Dudley was such a dimwit that he wouldn't even know to look in the most obvious of spots.

Now disregarding the dream, Harry opened the cupboard door to embrace the cold light outside.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-


	2. Prologue 2: Realization

**Prologue**

 **Part** **2: The Realization**

It had been a normal day for Harry so far, aside from that strange dream. Dudley had opened his presents, spending time criticizing the minor flaws in every single one while Harry was forced to watch. This had never happened before, but Uncle Vernon did have a logical reason for it in his contaminated brain.

Just before breakfast he had told or rather, _threatened_ Harry, to stay out of the way, but not too far, since Vernon's mind was at war between his common sense which urged him to keep the boy in his room, and the saying he had laid as a foundation in his job, 'Keep your loved ones close and your enemies closer'. Harry had realized very soon that the Dursley's didn't like him, but it wasn't like they tortured him either.

After the whole ordeal with the presents was finished, half of which Dudley didn't bother to clean up, and just left lying on the floor of the living room, Harry was about to go outside for a walk, but was stopped by Aunt Petunia. Then came what Harry had waited for in much dreaded anticipation. Aunt Petunia ordered him to stay where he was, just next to the main door, and walked into the Living Room to speak to Uncle Vernon. Harry could only hear whispers from where he stood, but knew that there was considerable worry and distrust behind the voices.

After about twenty minutes of waiting, both Uncle and Aunt walked out looking mutually exhausted. Harry had seen these faces plenty of times. These were the faces of those people who were about to do something that would go against their instincts and desires. Harry had seen these expressions far too often. While Aunt Petunia stayed back, Uncle Vernon walked forward. What happened next would mark a change in Harry's life with the Dursleys.

"Boy-I mean, Harry" Vernon looked slightly uncomfortable, but found it in himself to look directly at the child he had ignored for the past nine years.

Harry's eyes widened with shock and disbelief, but he made sure to hide it, knowing he was being closely watched by his uncle. Trying his best to meet the gaze of his Uncle, whose presence in Harry's case was almost crippling, suddenly something happened.

' _Don't worry, I'll take it from here…'_

Like a switch that had been turned on, Harry's mind went completely blank, and he took two deep breaths, straightened his posture and then to Vernon's surprise, met his gaze. The slightest of smiles formed on Harry's pale face, as he responded,

"Yes, what might it be, uncle?"

Now it was Uncle's turn to be shocked. He stood still for a second. Vernon, who was a successful mind, slightly disrespectful businessman recognized each expression on the young boy's face, and his words rang alarm bells in his head. One of the many changes was the masterful Poker Face the boy-no, Harry was wearing, and the second was the honorific he had used in his words. The final being his green eyes that had pierced through him.

Forgetting who he was talking to, Vernon's inner businessman talked, matching the poker face of his nephew, of course, he had forgotten he _was_ his nephew, as he responded, his instincts fully believing that he was talking to a fellow businessman.

"Harry, we will be leaving for the Zoo with Dudley at 12:30PM," a monotone voice, similar to that of a boss notifying his co-worker.

"And?" Harry raised an eyebrow threateningly, for this was now a marketing discussion, both sides locked in a trance, neither wanting to give up the upper hand.

Slightly intimidated, Vernon spoke,"W-Well, we will be expectant of your presence, though I should warn you not to step out of line. Be ready, and look presentable, that is all"

"Why, of course" A small nod of approval, and both parties were off in opposite directions.

As soon as the conversation was over however, Harry stared at his hands, wondering if he was still himself, ' _What did I do?'_

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Harry felt like a third party in the encounter, as he stared at himself, realizing much to his fear and displeasure that it was not him who had done the talking.

Uncle Vernon gritted his teeth and walked back to the living room, leaving a confused Harry and horror stricken Petunia in his wake. It didn't take long for Petunia to follow suite, and soon Harry was left alone in the hallway.

Minutes passed before Harry could regain any sense or grasp of his situation, but as soon as he did, a new confidence and lightheadedness was felt throughout his body. Memories of just a few minutes ago rushing back to him, he sighed at his own stupidity, he should go prepare now, after all, there was only about a span of 15 minutes before it was time to go.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 **Back At The Living Room With Our Favorite Half Dead Relatives**

Vernon had sat down on his favourite Sofa, and took many deep breaths before he managed to calm himself, the conversation before was simply far to intense. He sighed, the shock seeping through him as he soon realised that what had happened wasn't just a dream. Petunia still looked aghast, as she sat down next to her husband, looking worried and fearful.

"Vernon dear? What happened?" She whimpered. Obviously not grasping the seriousness of the predicament.

When Vernon didn't respond, in fact, she knew that he wasn't as much as even _listening_ , her face contorted into a face of natural disgust as she whispered darkly,

"The boy, he did something, didn't he? I knew it! It was wrong to take him in! He-He's _evil,"_ she spat in disgust.

Vernon had heard just about enough, and stared at her in thoughtfulness, before calmly speaking, "Petunia….. I don't know how to explain this, but ...the boy, _Harry_ sounded quite strange, as you may have rea-"

Aunt Petunia, overreacting, quickly squealed "Oh, no, not on my little Dudder's birthday, Vernon you have to warn hi-"

"PETUNIA! Listen! That wasn't freakishness, the way he looked, the way he talked, means to say, he acted like a natural businessman, and I too, had the instinctual feeling to comply with his request. My actions were based on years of experience and recognition, but what that boy did, it is surprising. Maybe, we have faulted in our treatment of him. He has many useful qualities," he stated in a matter-of-fact sense, nodding in satisfaction as to solidifying his stand and leaving Petunia completely stunned. Even Dudley had looked surprised. He had been to his father's workplace many times, and was familiar with the in's and outs of the art.

"But, where is this all going?" Petunia, who had never shown interest in her husband's line of work just stared.

"Hmmm…...Maybe, Dudley _will_ be freed from the burden of the family work, as long as we handle things with care from here on out," both of the other occupants in the Living Room looked close to fainting, not knowing to feel happy or sad.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 **ENDING NOTES: SO, I didn't feel like making the Dursleys complete jerks, and decided to draw out Vernon's business side, an Idea I got from something I read a while ago. Quick notification, Harry is actually nine right now, and Dudley just turned 10. There might be a one year time gap, or I might just prolong the prologue to when Harry receives the letter. Also, this isn't a Business Central Harry story, he will go to Hogwarts. Again, remember to Review, and thank you for taking the time to read.**


	3. Prologue 3: Confrontation

**Prologue**

 **Part 3 : Confrontation**

The strange being known mostly as Lord Voldemort, the bringer of death and destruction, and to loved ones, _Tom_ , spitefully glared at the man sitting before him, sipping tea. His brown hair was swept back, and his eyes seemed warm and welcoming. But Tom knew better.

"I didn't imagine I'd have company," he grunted, making sure to inform the man that his presence was unwelcome. The man was more unnerving than Tom would ever admit, mainly because he considered himself the most unnerving, and would never admit to being beat at anything, ever.

"Oh really? I did."

He boasted. Someone boasted to Voldemort.

Tom wasn't used to getting cheeky answers from people. After all, Voldemort demanded a certain amount of respect, from both ally or foe. So, was it really a surprise that Tom tried to hurl a rather annoying green curse at the man, who didn't bother with it. The curse hit his chest straight ahead, but nothing happened. Tom clicked his fingers exasperatedly.

"Should have known. Mind Palace. We're both powerless here," it was a logical assumption to make, anyway. It wasn't their mind palace, after all. It was young Harry Potters, who was currently on his way to the Zoo. The joy.

"Hmm, no. I'm definitely not powerless here."

Voldemort snorted. Him, Tom Riddle.

"Oh really? Care to explain then, mortal."

Aizen stopped and looked at him for a moment, with a gaze determining that this argument did not interest him in anyway, he resumed to sip his tea. Inwardly, some part of him might have enjoyed being called 'mortal'. If only dear Tim knew.

"You are petulant, Tim, did you know that?"

Voldemort considered this for a moment.

"It's Tom."

"Odd. I thought it was Voldemort."

Lord Voldemort would start crying, soon, probably.

As the dark lord angrily stormed off in a different direction, in a wide plane which Aizen believed had some resemblance to the Kings Cross Station, he allowed himself some time to think.

It was an odd sort of condition he had found himself in now. Casually in a boy's head - or soul, with no idea how he had gotten here, right after Ywach had cut a hole through his chest. A shame, he had imagined that he might live to see some of the better days of the Soul Society, but they wouldn't have wanted that either, he supposed.

Aizen observed his cellmate, as one was forced to when confined together. Lord Voldemort, indeed. The man had a wide variety of flaws, but there was underlying intelligence and cunning for days hidden beneath his furious demeanor. By this point in time, Aizen knew all about Tim. He hadn't stopped talking about his own amazing life until Aizen had started countering everything he would say. Aizen didn't insult him however, as that would have been far too rude for a gentleman such as him, _sniff_.

Another object of interest - or the only other, as they didn't have much entertainment around here, was the strange Harry Potter, who Aizen was bound to by mysterious forces. The boy wasn't anything like himself, or at least, he didn't seem to be. Granted, the child was witty and had what one less gentlemanly than him would call 'street smarts' but none of the cunning, misdirection and passion Aizen would relate with himself. A younger version of himself, actually. Then what had happened but a few hours ago, with Harry receding back to his subconscious, something dear Tim had confirmed, as he had seen Harry appear for a moment in his mind palace, if only to vanish almost immediately, during which Aizen had switched with Harry.

He wondered how he had changed in just a flash in comparison to his long life. He had been a king, he had ruled the world. He could command millions to walk to their deaths, just because of his own power. It was a shame that he never managed to rally people to his ambitions, only to control them with his powers. A dictator at best.

He had died a hero's death, which in his mind made him rather pathetic, but he had given up his world. He didn't mind starting from scratch again. And - if the moments he had gotten alive out there in the real world were a recurring occurrence, well then, his days had just gotten more interesting.

He would ponder this, as he started to fade away from the world, too quickly to express his shock. He was going up again, and this time he hadn't needed to try. This either meant something very good, or very bad.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When Aizen came too, he didn't feel much like himself. He would understand that this was probably because he was wearing glasses more preposterous than those he had worn back in the days of working in the Soul Society, and long untamed hair which was an insult to Aizen's well maintained hair. Aizen also felt different. He felt nervous, which in itself, was impossible. _Aizen didn't feel nervous!_

He also caught himself desiring chocolate, a need he had never expressed before now. It took but a moment for Aizen - or Harry, to finally come to an understanding. Somehow, he had slipped into the consciousness of his host, and unlike last time, it seemed like both of them would be here to stay.

Oh, there was a talking snake circling around him too. Harry faintly smelled fear and heard the extremely pleasing sound of Aunt Petunia screaming or gasping for air. He couldn't make out the difference. Nobody could fault him for smiling.

0-0-0-0-0-0

 **AN/Wow… I honestly never expected to return to this. I had started working on other fanfics this year, on a separate account, when I remembered this. Honestly, giving it a read through now, I found my writing to be terrible, but something piqued my curiosity. This is an incredibly short update, and was mostly just to ask if you guys wanted more of this? I'll apologize as my writing style must have changed a lot since I wrote this, and now the new style might not appeal to you. Thanks for sticking around, and I'll see you guys around. Review if you have the time.**


End file.
